Soft on the toes…whooops!

We got carpet installed Thursday and had a bum’s rush of activity Friday. Now, Saturday at the crack of dawn, we’ve got some quite nearly completed rooms upstairs with colors on the walls, a few pieces of furniture almost in place, and soft pile carpet all over the place.

The carpet installation went pretty smoothly. The guys were fast and most of the work is pretty good. But when the guys left, like seconds after they left, I walked through the upstairs in my socks and immediately discovered the problem: a three foot line, about two inches wide that feels like there is no pad underneath. It’s a like a valley. And in the day and a half since I found the spot I can’t help but step on it (without meaning to) every time I walk through the room.

I’ve put in a call to the carpet place and they are supposed to review notes with the installers and call me back. Hmmmmm. We shall see. This shall be getting fixed, I assure you. I am just way to neurotic to live with it.

And it’s not just me. Everyone I point it out to can’t believe it, and several of the people working yesterday discovered it on their own. Like when I brought my uncle in to show him the spot (he came up with my mother and aunt to help move some of the big pieces of furniture), one of the plumber’s helpers was like, “you mean that dip in the floor? I keep kneeling in it. What’s that all about?”

But hey, nothing can go totally smoothly, right? And we truly are getting very close. The inside will be done within the next day or two. All they really have left is touch up and a few last details, like a piece of base board that needs to be trimmed because the heat ran an inch longer than anticipated. Seriously little stuff like that.

Of course, the siding has to be put up on the outside of the dormer and the whole house needs to be stained, so the guys will be around for a little while longer (I won’t be totally lonely yet) but we’re real close. No, no big 4th of July barbecue this year, but maybe by August, birthday time for the boys, we would be able to throw a shindig. Yeah right, like Carol would let me.

How about a Halloween party? We could get Halloween decorations and make Halloween snacks and send Halloween invitations and wear Halloween costumes. Baby Laura can wear my famous baby cow costume – just like the boys before her. At least she’s gender appropriate to dress as a cow, right?

And that’s no bull.

Utter hilarity.

Another one bites

We had Jake’s final Little League game of the season this morning. I have to say it is a bittersweet ending. I mean, on the one hand I will miss helping the coaches out at practice, sometimes even catching during the game. It’s coach-pitch and thus, coach-catch. Or in my case – coach-like father catching. I think I’ve played more baseball as the father of a Little Leaguer this season than I ever did as a kid, as an actual Little Leaguer myself.

On the other hand, I no longer have to agonize through weekly practices begging Jake to concentrate and pay attention. No more yelling like one of those maniacs who thinks their kid is going to be the next Derek Jeter. I mean, Jeter this kid is not. I yell at him to stop picking daisies or playing in the dirt. Or to stop squealing like a stuck pig in the dugout waiting for his turn at bat.

Who would have thought that I – quite possibly the least athletic kid ever – would grow up to be a sports Dad. Or just look like one.

Then again, my attempts to keep my kid focused are hopefully far less annoying one of those mega-chunker Wal-Mart Moms who yell at their kids like they’re on the couch in their double wide. You can see her now: One hand is dipping into the bag of Cool Ranch Doritos while the other is dutifully popping ephedra diet pills into her chubbed-up mouth. Despite the chill morning air she is sweating profusely in her floral print bloomer shorts featuring every tropical color but the lime green of her a-shirt.

By the way – when the diameter of your upper arm is closer to 2-liter bottle than 1-liter bottle (or, heaven forbid, a 3-liter) you should really consider wearing sleeves. Just a friendly suggestion.

But maybe it’s not fair to mock the size of these Moms when their real offense is the whining. The whining arguments they have with their children. Awful.

“What are you doing over there. Get on a helmet. You’re up to bat.”

“Nobody told me.”

“Yes they did, you’re not paying attention.”

“Yes I am.”

“No your not.”

“Keep it up and we’re not going to McDonalds after.”

“You promised.”

“I don’t care. Get your bat. It’s your turn to hit.”

“I’m going I’m going.”

“Go faster. Everybody’s waiting for you.”

“I’m GO-ing.”

“Then GO!”

“Errrrrr!”

“Chomp!”

If it’s worth the going, it’s worth the ride

We are so close to having a whole house again…it’s pretty amazing.

The sheet rock is up and the guys have started taping. The first coat is up, two to go before they start priming and painting. We may start seeing color on the walls as early as Saturday. It’s really pretty amazing.

Joe and Bob do just about everything (except the plumbing and electrical) and I think that’s one of the reasons the work is so sound. It’s like the McDonald’s theory of management – you have to work every job before you can be a manager. You have to know how to do everything. And that’s why a reasonable Mickey D’s manager won’t be yelling at the fry cook to get the fries out to the chunky lady in the sagging minivan. When you’ve done your time over the oil, you have an understanding of how long it takes. “Make them faster” is a ridiculous and, frankly, stupid statement.

I see it all the time where I work, and in just about every place I’ve ever worked. There are good managers who understand the realities of the work being done. They may not know how to do it all, but they have an understanding of what is involved. They properly manage their people and their people’s time. and they keep the wolves and clients at bay in the process. They run rings around the majority of managers out there…and that’s too bad.

Most managers, supervisors and yes, even executives with MBAs, have little understanding of the work at hand. In fact, they have little understanding of the business they are in. In the last 12 or so years I have worked for a number of companies in a variety of media outlets and I have had literally hundreds of clients from all ends of the spectrum – higher ed, fortune 500 corporate, banking and financial services, retail from mega giants to mom and pop stores. What I have found, across the board, is that the vast majorities of managers excel at few things more than underestimating their work force and failing to grasp what really motivates their employees.

Guys like Bob and Joe understand the whole gig, literally from the ground up, so they can do it all if need be. But they also know when to pass on a task and to whom the job should go. And they know when to bring in extra hands to get certain things done efficiently.

I’m not saying every managers needs to know how to do every specific task, nor am I suggesting that management need to take on more of the grunt work. On the contrary, managers serve an important purpose. But that purpose is not to simply yell at their people to work harder or figure out a way to get everything done with too little time (resulting in shoddy output) because that manager has a poor understanding of the realities of the job at hand.

I have actually been pretty lucky. I have never really had one of these schmucks directly over me. But I have had a lot of clients that fit this description, and I have had plenty of coworkers who do, too. And, of course, I have often been only a tier or two away from such people on the corporate food chain, so my work life has definitely been impacted.

Look America, we need to figure this stuff out. We need to lose our sense of entitlement. Our young people need to stop lusting after BMWs and start lusting after each other again. In other words, forget about the fancy car you schmucks – buy a beater and move out of your parents house!. Seriously, there are way too many managers out there and way too few people who can actually do shit. Can we please get that fixed?

Welcome Home Girl!

She’s here. Little Laura came in to the world yesterday (Wednesday) morning at 6 pounds, 3 ounces. 6/3, that’s her birthday. Gives me a clue to remembering birthday/birth weight. I need all the help I can get. I can’t remember any of the details with the boys. There was a 9 something and an 8 something. So, that’s a start.

This one is tiny tiny tiny. Smallest baby we ever made. But like the others she is cute cute cute. And no, that is not parental bias – it is an all out fact. Ask anybody who sees her.

And her room is almost ready. The Brothers are sheetrocking, her window is in. Any day now we’ll be picking colors. We got a nice ceiling fan with a light while picking fixtures and carpet. We’ve been picking all kinds of cool things – I mean, no vessel sinks or skylights, but to me, paint, carpet and ceiling fans are pretty cool.

A couple more days and Laura will be home, and when she’s ready for a night on her own, her room will be ready to go!